The Phantom Waltz
by ZeGabz
Summary: "Dance with Cosette, Monsieur Marius. I wish to dance with someone else tonight."  EponinexEnjolras, oneshot for now


**A/N: I've been reading and reviewing plenty Les Mis stuff lately, but I haven't written anything worth giving to you. So here is my first shot! Éponine/Enjolras, obviously, with hints of one-sided Éponine/Marius. I hope no Eppie-Sue slipped in, but I tried to make her as stubborn as she could be.  


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"They're getting married tonight," Éponine murmured to herself, staring down to Earth from her Heavenly perch. She could sense the ABC Club gathered behind her looking down on their friend as well on what would probably be, she realized with a sharp pang, the best night of his life.

"We know," Joly said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off angrily. He stepped back and instantly, the men crowded around Enjolras.

"She's impossible," Grantaire muttered, "Let's just leave her to wallow for eternity."

"Grantaire!" Combeferre scolded, "She is in pain. Marius would want us to help her."

"Marius wouldn't care," came a voice from behind them, making them all spread out like ants running from a raindrop. Éponine stood, her eyes misty, watching them, and obviously heard them.

"Éponine . . ." Enjolras began, stepping forward, but she didn't move, she just stared down below. Faint music played. The Waltz had begun.

"I want to dance," Éponine murmured, beginning to hum along to the music. The boys all exchanged confused glances as Éponine continued to hum.

Finally, Grantaire spoke up, his voice unsympathetic. "What?"

"I want to dance," Éponine repeated, turning to face them again, her eyes suddenly bright and sparkling. Again, they exchanged puzzled looks. She sighed impatiently. "Who will come with me? They'll never know!" Her street instincts kicked in, and she began plotting what to do once she got there.

Meanwhile, the men all argued on who was to go.

"She's gone crazy!"

"You couldn't pay me!"

"Enjolras should go!" Grantaire piped up, grinning wickedly at his hero. Enjolras's eyes grew wide. "You know you want to."

"Yeah, enough pining after her." Their revolutionary leader's face grew as red as the vest he still wore.

"Hey, Éponine!" Joly called. Éponine looked up from her wistful staring down at the dancing.

"Enjolras wants to go!" Gavroche called, speaking for the first time, his voice cheerful and smug as usual.

Éponine raised an eyebrow. "He does?" she asked, a smile twitching at her lips. "I would think Monsieur Enjolras would much prefer reading a book."

The men laughed, and he blushed redder. Grantaire rolled his eyes. Enjolras never acted this way, it wasn't right. It was too much like Marius, but hey, if that's what Éponine wanted from a man . . .

"Say something!" he urged his friend, "Before she goes and dances with Mari-"

"Let's go, before the dance ends," Enjolras cut his friend off, taking Éponine's hand and escorting her down to earth.

A good advantage of being a ghost meant you could conjure your own clothes. None of those pesky earthly limitations Though Éponine would never admit it, she was fond of looking better than her street rat self. In her afterlife, she only dressed in rags among the ABC Café members, to look familiar to them, she supposed. Now, she wore a simple gray gown. Enjolras wore a simple suit, and now a teasing smirk.

They finally reached the ballroom, and Éponine's heart sank as she saw Marius and Cosette dancing. She willed herself to be visible to all, and felt several curious eyes on her, wondering who she was and how she knew the bride and groom.

_If only they knew_, she thought bitterly.

"May I have this dance?" Enjolras asked softly, holding out his hand. However brave Éponine pretended to be, she had to admit that Enjolras intimidated her with his commanding presence and obvious knowledge of things unknown to her. But the tone he now used with her was soft and inviting, similar to Marius' voice.

_Marius._ He was dancing closely with Cosette, kissing her softly when he thought nobody was looking. She swallowed her pain audibly as Enjolras led her through the waltz.

"You look lovely in that dress," Enjolras commented, "You should wear them more often." Éponine chuckled.

"What, you don't like my rags?"

"You look lovely either way, 'Ponine," he said warmly.

As the dance neared Marius, her Marius, her eyes met his, and in an instant he rushed away from his newlywed, stepping through the crowd as the song ended, wondering if he was imagining the face of his dearest friend, if she was there to haunt him, or if she simply was a figment of the guilt that raked him every day. When he reached her he knew she was real, and indeed stood before him.

"Is it really you, 'Ponine?" he asked softly, reaching out to touch her cheek. Her eyes closed and a blissful smile enveloped her face. Instantly, he removed his hand, and Éponine sadly looked at the floor. Marius then noticed her partner. "Enjolras?" he whispered, mystified. "Oh my friends forgive me- that I live and you are go-"

"Excuse us for a moment," Enjolras interrupted, pulling a reluctant and hurt Éponine outside into the cold air that would no longer hurt them.

"What?" she asked, frustrated.

"Éponine, why are you here?" he asked intently, looking her in the eye. She attempted to avert her gaze, but he held firm.

"I wanted to dance," she murmured, finally breaking their gaze and staring at the ground.

"Let him go," Enjolras whispered, "You can't haunt him forever." Éponine jumped back, startled.

"I love him," she whispered, "I can't let him go."

"'Ponine, you already have!" Enjolras said, "Éponine, please look at me."

"Why do you care anyways?" she asked bitterly, "Nobody every does."

"_I_ care about you," Enjolras murmured, tilting her face up to his and kissing her forehead. "I always have and always will. Be happy, 'Ponine, be happy."

"I can still see the life I might have known if he had just seen me . . ." she whispered, a sob escaping her. Enjolras' anger exploding inside of him, but he found himself doing something that completely contradicted his blazing emotions:

He pulled her into his arms.

"Éponine, you don't love him," he said stiffly, angry at her, at himself for being angry at her, at Marius for being so stupid, at Cosette for making him stupid . . .

"I do love him!" she replied hotly, attempting to pull away from his embrace, but failing miserably.

"That came out wrong," he corrected, "You're in love with the idea of loving Marius, not him. You're in love with the idea of a relationship!" the last word was screamed, and he was glad he had taken her outside. She gaped at him, her mouth wide open that he had dared to say to her what nobody else would.

"I-I have to go," she whispered, tearing away from him and running back to Marius. She couldn't handle his blunt honesty, the way his embrace awakened a dead space inside her heart.

Enjolras sunk back to the ground.

Marius met Éponine eagerly, but was concerned by the tension radiating from her.

"Éponine, we need to clear some things up before you return to God," Marius started, but Éponine cut him off by leaning in and kissing him. Her lips were cold against his, and only made contact for a split second before she, not he, pulled back.

"I felt . . ." she suddenly broke into a huge smile. "Nothing." Marius' eyes grew wide and relief was ringing in his reply.

"Really?" Éponine turned back to him, her face breaking into an excited smile.

"Really!" A rush flowed through her, a rush of freedom and excitement and . . . happiness. She spun him around excitedly. When she finished, they stood facing each other, hand in hand. She let go easily.

Marius was elated. He felt completely forgiven, and Éponine was happy. That was all he had wanted. No, one more thing.

"So, will you finally put Enjolras out of his misery?" Marius asked.

"What?" Éponine asked, stepping back. Marius rolled her eyes, and Éponine thought she heard a chorus of frustrated sighs from above.

"Just like I was blind to your feelings before, you must be blind to his," Marius muttered. "I saw the way he watched you in the ABC Cafe back then, and tonight, when we talked." He wasn't completely comfortable with the idea, the fool inside of him was a bit jealous, but the man he had become in his time with Cosette knew that it was for the best that she move on from him. He pushed his male ego aside.

Éponine just stared at him, shocked. Enjolras . . . liked her? Was it possible? They had rarely talked, but as she thought back she realized that he had always been there, to help her, to lend her his money, to tell her where Marius was . . .

A soft voice called out Marius' name. Cosette. Marius cupped Éponine's cheek and smiled kindly at her.

"I should return to my wife. I miss you, 'Ponine. Walk safely among the stars."

Right before he left, he turned.

"Would you like to dance? Cosette can handle herself for a while longer." Éponine almost accepted, but by chance she turned to see a hesitant Enjolras making his way towards her. She turned back to him and smiled before turning back to her fellow fallen revolutionary, suddenly feeling butterflies in her stomach as he got nearer and nearer. And the butterflies had never felt better.

"Dance with Cosette, Monsieur Marius. I wish to dance with someone else tonight."

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**A/N: I might be bold enough to turn this into a story, but for now I leave it as a oneshot depicting the beginnings of a romance. Enjoy and review!**


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